One Sweet Dream
by ItsLukasBondevik
Summary: 1950s AU.The only important thing in Kurt Hummel's life is getting out of Lima and into NYADA. But when he and Rachel Berry win tickets to see Blaine and the Pips live, he learns more about love in one day in New York City than in a lifetime in Ohio.
1. Prologue

Prologue

Kurt Hummel was fiddling around with his stove, trying to get it to light, but having more problems than solutions so he gave up on trying to make coffee and took a seat in his favorite easy chair, pulling out a book and turning to where his bookmark held his spot. He was only about two pages in when the doorbell of his apartment rang, and he looked surprised, not expecting any guests, and tidied up his record collection quickly before asking through the wood, "Who is it?"

"Kurt, it's Rachel." For a moment he was stunned by the sadness in her voice. Rachel Berry didn't have time to be sad; she was about to start her first stint on Broadway, she was nothing but bells and happiness. He opened the door for her, and she waltzed in with a newspaper in hand, her eyes looking at her shoes.

"Are you all right?" he asked, his brows furrowed as he took her coat and hung it on the rack near his door. "I haven't seen you this sad since you didn't get into that musical _Ernest__in__Love_." She didn't say a word, just placed him gently into the couch before her and turned away from him, trying to hide the tears in her eyes. She turned off the record player, and Kurt knew something was very, very wrong.

Rachel held up a newspaper to read, looking like she would rather die than share this news with him, like she would do anything to keep it from being true. Kurt felt his heart leap into his throat, and he knew who the news was about even before she opened her mouth to speak the headline.

"_Teen __Sensation __Dies __in __Crash, __Nations __Mourns __Young __Crooner_," she began slowly, her voice choking, and Kurt knew it was killing her to read this to him, killing her to be the one to break the news, he could see it in her eyes, in the way she hunched against the back of the sofa in his New York apartment, her mouth screwed into a show of emotion that he just could not feel in the numbness of his heart.

"_Blaine __Anderson, __lead __vocalist __in __hit __pop __band _Blaine and the Pips_, __passed __away __last __night __at __the __site __of __the __crash __of __his __private __jet, __only __an __hour __after __take off. __No __one __else __has __been __reported __deceased, __as __the __pilot __and __copilot __were __the __only __other __passengers __recorded __as __on __board __the __flight. __The __pilot, __whose __name __has __been __with held, __told __us __that __Mr. __Anderson __was __on __his __way __to __see __a __close __friend __of __his __in __New Y__ork __City __as __a __surprise __visit, __whose __name __he __could __not __remember. __The __nation __lost __a __wonderful __musician, __man, __and f__riend __last __night, __and __his _Pips, _Nick, __Jeff, __Thad, __and __Sebastian, __have __gone __on __record __saying __that __there __would __be __no __point __in __continuing __the g__roup, __and __have __disbanded._"

Kurt stood up from his seat on the couch, his eyes suddenly awash with tears. He had been coming to New York to see him. Blaine had been coming to surprise him, and now Kurt would never see him again. He felt his heart try to burst out of his chest, and he placed his hand against the side of his neck, the comfort spot doing little to appease his breaking heart.

And it was in that moment, he saw his life, just a whirl of memories and emotions, race before his eyes, and he knew that it would never be the same again.

AN: Story was inspired by and based off of a group of manips done that I saw on Tumblr. I don't take any credit for those at all, just the story!


	2. Chapter 1

Chapter 1

"Hey, Fairy!"

Kurt paused, about to close his locker, and took a deep breath. He didn't care, he told himself, it didn't bother him. It was the last day of his senior year, this was the last day he was going to see these jerks and after that it wouldn't matter. This school was the pits, but once he was rich and famous he would be fine, and everyone here would be begging him for his autograph in no time. "First off, I'm not queer, okay? Secondly, what the hell do you want?" he asked, turning around.

He saw the jock squad looking all pretty in their Lettermen's jacket that half of them didn't deserve or earn. He crossed his arms over his chest, not letting himself be intimidated, but also not wanting to get into a fight, either. These meat heads were the type to go ape on anyone they wanted, and he had a new Sinatra album he needed to listen to in his bag and he would not be happy if it broke. "Last day of school, Hummel," one of them said, but he couldn't remember his name. They all looked the same to him, the same obnoxious, wet rags he'd had to deal with since he was a freshman. "You know what that means?"

"Can't say I do," he said uncomfortably, taking a step in the opposite direction from them. He never wished at that moment more that he was Dorothy and could just wish himself home. His feet though, would have to work a little harder than tapping together three times to get away from them. Before he even waited to find out what they were thinking to do, Kurt took off in the opposite direction, holding his satchel against his chest as he nearly slipped and fell during the sharp turn into the classroom of his favorite teacher, Mr. Schuester.

He didn't see the man anywhere, but that was all right, as long as the jocks didn't come in looking for him in fear of running into a teacher, the detour did it's job. He huffed his way onto the piano bench, and leaned his forehead against the cool wood, closing his eyes. He was safe.

Kurt stayed in that room with no sign of Schuester until the final bell rang, skipping his final class of his school career with nary a care. He stood from the bench after a few minutes and waited for the school to empty before heading for his car. Kurt was sick of not having any friends, he was sick of being lonely. Hopefully once he moved to New York and started studying at NYADA, it wouldn't matter anymore.

It didn't take him long to get home, and as he was pulling up into the driveway, he saw his dad leaving to go to work. "Hey dad," he greeted, closing the door to his car and smiling at the man. Burt Hummel was dressed in his slacks and dark blue shirt with his name embroidered on the front, ready to go to work at his car repair shop.

"Hey, Kurt," he said distractedly, looking through a folder. "There's leftovers in the icebox, or if you're still hungry after that, I left you five dollars to get something at the diner if you want."

"Thanks Dad," he said, tapping him on the bag as he got into his truck. Kurt watched him go, sighing, wondering when his father was going to let him choose out a new wardrobe. Wearing the same shirt and slacks every day to work was definitely not the way to go. Kurt rolled his eyes and entered the house, putting his bag away and carefully putting the new Sinatra album on as he started to clean. His father tended to leave beer cans and dishes and trash piling high, and though he didn't mind cleaning up after him, he wished he got an allowance or something.

Kurt picked up the five ratty one dollar bills from the table, eying them, wondering what he should do because he had no one to hang out with, and going to the diner would just be depressing. He turned to see what was in the icebox, and saw that something had been stuck to it with a magnet. "_Blaine __and __the __Pips __listening __party __at __Margret's __Diner __for __their __new __hit __single __Teenage __Dream!_" It was dated today, and Kurt smiled, putting a hand under his chin.

His father knew him only too well.

He took down the advertisement, looking at the face of Blaine Anderson, the dreamboat lead vocalist of the Pips, with his perfectly coifed dark hair, those hazel eyes and the perfectly flawless way he smiled. He was probably the most arrogant, rude, Buddy Holly knock off that had ever stepped foot into the limelight, but Kurt wasn't really too ruffled. He'd never meet him, just have some eye candy until the record companies shelved him for the next pretty boy with a good voice and moves like Elvis.

He turned off the record player and took a quick shower, fixing up his hair before heading back out into the warmth of the western Ohio summer and turning on his car. Kurt's car took a minute to start, but he headed out into the street to the diner, his fingers tapping on the steering wheel as he turning on the radio. "_And now ladies and gentlemen! Tonight, several locations in Lima, Ohio are having a listening party for the new single by Blaine and the Pips, Teenage Dream! Two lucky people from each location will win tickets plus flight, hotel and a limousine to their show in New York City, one week from Saturday!_" The announcer was drowned out by the sound of the single from a few weeks ago that had all the fans talking, _Misery_.

Kurt pulled up to the diner, leaning against his car as he locked the door and entered the building. He was one of three males in a sea of way too many females, talking loudly and eating their ice cream and drinking their pop. The brightly colored knee length skirts gave him a headache, and he pulled nervously on his cardigan, wanting to just hear the song and get out of there. He sat by himself in the corner, ordering an egg cream and waiting for the record to be played. The diner grew more and more packed and Kurt gave nasty looks to anyone who tried to join him in the booth, preferring to sit alone.

"Kurt Hummel?" He looked up from his straw and saw the dark brown hair and eyes of none other than Rachel Berry, local drama queen, though not Prom queen, that title was taken by Quinn Fabray this year, and amazing singer extraordinaire. Their only connection to each other was the application process to NYADA. "Do you mind if I sit with you?"

He sighed. He wanted to be courteous to the other friendless outcast at his school, but sometimes it was difficult to care. "I know you will no matter what I say, Rachel, so please, have a seat." Not the least bit insulted by the sarcasm, she shimmied up right next to him, much to his dismay, but before he could object, the lights dimmed slightly, and the screaming of girls drowned out every thought he ever had. Oh, dear god, why did he come here? His egg cream was delivered in the nick of time, though into the hands of Rachel, who took the liberty of taking the first gulp before handing it to him.

Kurt rolled his eyes and leaning his hand against the table, urging the proprietors of this godforsaken place to just hurry up. "All right!" A middle aged woman popped out from the back of the diner, her pink and white uniform crisp and clean as she held up the record that had been entrusted to her. "Are you ready to hear the new Blaine and the Pips single?" The diner flew into a frenzy but grew instantly quiet, like only girls obsessed with a singer could, as she placed it into the juke box in the corner and hit play.

As soon as that needle hit the vinyl, the entire party was silenced, listening to the song. Rachel was squeezing his arm tight enough for her to be a human tourniquet, but he wasn't quite aware of that, the smooth tenor of Blaine Anderson's voice permeating his ears so perfectly that he felt like he might be dreaming. Who was he kidding? Just like every adolescent girl in this joint, he was desperately in love with the mainstream pop singer, though for him, it wasn't quite as acceptable.

When the song was over, and the girls were starting to develop their voices into a dull roar, the woman from before came forward, holding an envelope. "And now to decide the winner of the all expenses paid trip to New York City to see Blaine and the Pips live in concert!" Again, dead silence, and Kurt looked around to make sure everyone there was still alive. They were all holding their breath, and he grimaced. Two of these annoying, prepubescent girls would win tickets to see Blaine and they would get to meet him and shake his hand, and he would be sitting at home, lusting over a record cover. He started to stand up to leave, when the woman was suddenly in his face.

"And the winners! This adorable couple right here! What are your names?"

Kurt was baffled as the woman was shoving the envelope into his face, and Rachel said loudly, "I'm Rachel, Rachel Berry don't forget it because you'll all know my name one day! And this is Kurt. Hummel." The woman wrote down their names and handed them the envelope, Rachel dragging Kurt out by the hand in her excitement.

This was not happening.


End file.
